


Three Kisses

by DKNC



Series: Finding My Way To You [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempted Sexual Assault, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 15:17:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1147519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DKNC/pseuds/DKNC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Catelyn Tully knew she was unhappy with the direction of her life at the moment, but she felt unsure of what she wanted or where she wanted to go. Little did she know that Robert Baratheon's penchant for hanging entirely too many sprigs of mistletoe at his annual holiday party would set up a chain of events which would dramatically alter her life's direction over the course of the evening.</p><p>Written for the "mistletoe" prompt in the Ships of Ice and Fire challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Kisses

"What is it now, Cat?”

Her boyfriend’s thoroughly irritated question caused Catelyn Tully to turn from gazing out the car window and look toward him. He had only one hand on the wheel, as always, but rather than resting the other lightly on her thigh as was his habit, he drummed the dashboard with his fingers.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I know,” he frowned. “Your silence is deafening. Look, if you don’t want to do this, if you don’t want to be with me tonight, tell me now, okay?”

She sighed. His words might almost sound understanding if it weren’t for the aggravated tone of his voice. She had to admit he might have a right to be aggravated. She’d told him she accepted his apology. She’d told him she was ready to move forward and put the whole sorry episode behind her. She’d told herself the same things. So what was wrong with her? She bit her lip before replying. “I told you I’d come to Robert’s party, Brandon. And I do want to be with you. It’s just . . .” _Just what?_ she thought. _Just that I’ll look at every girl there and wonder if you’ve slept with them? Just that I dread the pitying looks I know I’ll get. Just that I hate knowing you want me there as much for the PR value as for anything else?_

He sighed heavily into the silence after her unfinished sentence. “Look, Cat. I fucked up. I know I did. Big time. And I’m sorry. I am sorrier than I’ve ever been for anything. I really want a chance to make it up to you somehow. To show you what you mean to me. And I was so happy you wanted to come tonight. But if you’re just going to be a bitch about it . . .”

“I’m sorry, Brandon. I really am. And I do want to come.” _He gets caught by the paparazzi fucking Barbrey Ryswell on the deck of_ _Robert Baratheon’s boat, and I’m apologizing. How the hell does he manage to make me feel guilty so easily?_ “I guess I’m just not looking forward to facing everyone for the first time since . . .well, since everything happened.” _The tabloids, the late night comics’ jokes, the screaming and the tears, and the generally feeling duped and humiliated._

“I know, babe.” His voice did sound genuinely sympathetic and contrite now, and he actually took his eyes off the road for a brief few seconds to look at her, laying his hand not on her thigh, but over her own hand. “And all I can do is say I’m sorry. And I know that doesn’t really help.” He grinned then--that grin that had stopped her heart the first time she’d ever seen it and had her dropping her panties three months later. “But if anybody says anything to you that you don’t like, you let me know, and I’ll make them regret it. You have my word on that.”

She laughed at him, and it felt good. It used to be so easy to laugh with Brandon, and she wondered when that had started to change. If she were honest with herself, it had been since before the Barbrey debacle. _I love him,_ she told herself. _I’ve loved him for three years. That doesn’t just go away._

“Who’s going to be there that I know?” she asked, attempting to lighten the mood in the car. “I mean that I’ll actually want to talk to?”

“Well, your sister is coming with that Baelish creep.”

Catelyn grimaced. She couldn’t completely disagree with Brandon’s characterization, and God knew she wished her sister would stay away from Petyr Baelish, but the boy had practically grown up in her home, and she couldn’t help feeling a bit protective toward him still even if he had revealed some rather obsessive feelings towards her. “I don’t think Lysa will want to talk to me,” she said sadly. “I’ve tried to tell her that Petyr is using her, and she just insists that I’m jealous--that I can’t stand that he loves her instead of me. I don’t know what I can do for her Brandon.”

“You can’t do anything, Cat. Lysa sees what she wants to see, and that little shit will bang her because she’s got your hair and your last name, and I guess it’s better than jerking off to your picture.”

“Brandon!” Catelyn hissed at him. “She’s only twenty years old. No one sees clearly at twenty.” _I never suspected you’d cheat_ _when I was twenty._ “And Petyr’s only eighteen. They’re just . . .messed up.”

“Well, she may be just messed up . . .but he’s an obsessive, perverted little fucker, Cat. I don’t care how old he is.”

Catelyn sighed. Sometimes she regretted showing Brandon the things Petyr had written her, but she couldn’t honestly argue with him. Lysa was going to get hurt eventually, and it broke her heart to think about it, but she was the last person on earth Lysa would listen to when it came to Petyr Baelish. “Will Ned be there?” she asked, “Or is he still refusing to speak to Robert?”

Robert Baratheon and Brandon’s brother had been best friends for almost their entire lives, and Catelyn had felt somewhat guilty at being the cause of the biggest falling out they’d ever had. _You didn’t cause it. Brandon did,_ she told herself angrily. Yet, guilt aside, she’d been rather ridiculously pleased when she’d heard that Ned Stark had raked Robert over the coals and completely cut off contact with him after learning that he’d provided his boat as a private place for Brandon and Barbrey to hook up.

“He’ll be there,” Brandon assured her. He gave her that thousand watt smile again. “Ned can’t stay mad at Robert any more than you can stay mad at me. Once I told him I’d made up with you, and I swore I wouldn’t ever be such an idiot again, he started talking to me and Robert both.”

“I’m glad.”

“That my brother’s talking to me or that he’ll be at the party?"

“Both,” she said without hesitation. “You know perfectly well that you’ll spend half the night wheeling and dealing, and while you’re off charming the masses, I’ll need someone to talk to.”

He laughed. “That’s why I love you, Cat. You understand me so well.”

_Do I? Do I know you at all, Brandon? Is Barbrey the only one or were there others? All those times I told myself I was being silly and insecure--did I have reason to doubt you?_

Brandon pulled the car up to the front of Robert Baratheon’s building. Of course, Robert had valet parking arranged for his Christmas party. He had an enormous apartment on the top floor of a building with a killer view of Central Park. His monthly rent there was likely equal to the gross national product of some small nations, but Robert had the money and liked spending it. His family had come into money a few generations before, and his parents had done well with the family business before dying when Robert was barely in college and his brothers still kids. Brandon never said much about it, but Ned had confided to her that he was worried about Robert’s spendthrift habits. He had inherited the major share of Baratheon Steel and had surrounded himself with competent people to run it, but he had little interest in the mundane aspects of running a business himself, and far too much interest in spending the profits on enjoying himself.

Brandon’s and Ned’s family was very different. The Starks were old money. Catelyn supposed that her own family would be considered old money by most people, but compared to the Starks, the Tullys were practically nouveau riche. Brandon had taken her up north to Winterfell a few times, and while her own childhood home of Riverrun was a rather impressive manor in its own right, the ancestral home of the Starks was the closest thing to a castle she’d ever seen in the United States. The enormous stone structure of the great house felt ancient and somehow regal, and even the smallest of the many outbuildings was bigger than most people’s houses. She’d loved Winterfell, even if the old forest surrounding it did make her feel rather small and insignificant. Brandon preferred the city, which she supposed was a good thing. Stark Capital Investments was headquartered in NewYork so Brandon needed to be here most of the time. Ned had a place in New York, too, although he seemed to like going home to Winterfell a lot more than Brandon did. Their sister Lyanna was a sophomore at Columbia University here in the city and had every intention of staying here with one of her older brothers when school let out in the spring, but their youngest brother Benjen gave no indication of ever wanting to leave Winterfell.

Their father, Rickard was an impressive man who managed to run his company with an iron fist in spite of never having had a permanent home in New York. He maintained that Starks belonged in Winterfell, and Catelyn had heard him say that to Brandon on any number of occasions. Rickard was scrupulously honest, a rare trait among Wall Street wizards, and he’d hammered that sense of integrity into his sons. Brandon was far more willing to skate right up to the edges of legality than his father was, but he’d never crossed that line. Anything questionable he ran by Ned, possibly the most honest man in America, and he never did anything that Ned said was an absolute no-go. Brandon was smart, charming, and a born wheeler-dealer. He’d diversified Stark Capital’s holdings into areas his father would never have dreamed of. Ned, although only one year out of college, had an analytical mind and serious enough disposition to act as the perfect counterpoint to Brandon’s unbridled imagination. They made a good team, the Stark brothers, and Catelyn was truly glad they were once more on speaking terms.

“Mr. Stark!” the doorman greeted Brandon enthusiastically. “Mr. Baratheon will be very pleased to see you. And you, Miss Tully. Might I take your coat for you?”

“Thank you,” Catelyn said, trying not to be disconcerted that he’d recognized her. While she’d been a fairly recognizable name in the social pages back home, she’d enjoyed the relative anonymity that had come with attending college in New York City. Of course, that hadn’t lasted long once she started dating Brandon Stark. Then Rickard had announced his intent to step down as CEO in favor of Brandon within the next two years and the media attention had intensified. Time Magazine had run their huge story entitled “Brandon Stark--Making Old Money New” with Brandon’s smiling face on the cover and a photo spread including several pictures of the two of them together in the article just six weeks ago--two weeks before those hideous naked pictures of him and the Ryswell tramp had been splashed across the National Enquirer and the Globe and numerous other rags.

Having taken her coat, (Brandon wasn’t wearing one, of course. Neither he nor his brother ever seemed bothered by the cold), the doorman escorted them to the elevator and pushed the button for Robert’s floor. When the doors closed behind them, Brandon pulled her in for a quick kiss, but he didn’t push for more. She’d not yet allowed him back into her bed, and he had assured her he could be patient. “You look great, Cat. I’m really happy you’re here tonight. Dad’s happy, too. He said to give you a hug from him.”

“I’ll bet,” Catelyn said, pursing her lips just slightly. Rickard was in Winterfell, of course. He wouldn’t drag himself to New York to attend a party Brandon could handle with his eyes closed. But she had no doubt the old man had badgered Brandon about making sure he brought her tonight. She liked Mr. Stark, but knew him to be first and foremost a businessman. Stark Capital had taken a bit of a dip in the market after those tabloid pieces came out. Brandon showing the world that his pretty girlfriend from the respectable family was standing by her man might just speed along the company’s recovery. _When did I become such a cynic?_

“You look so good, I can’t wait to get through this party and have you all to myself. I really want you to come back with me to my place tonight. Please come and stay tonight.” Before she could answer, he continued, “God, Cat, I cannot wait until you graduate this spring. Then you won’t need your father’s approval or his money for tuition, and you can move in with me for good. It’ll be so much better for us then, babe. I promise.”

The little bell in the elevator dinged, and Brandon let go of her as the doors opened, holding out his arm for her to take. _You_ _promise._ He’d never actually asked her what she thought about the two of them living together. He’d always just assumed that it was fear of her famously conservative father’s disapproval that kept her living on campus at Columbia. Brandon apparently considered shacking up the ultimate statement of commitment, and had repeatedly told her how he’d never wanted any woman living in his space before. Sadly, she still believed in marriage as the ultimate commitment between two people, but he wouldn’t know that as he had never asked her about it.

“Stark! You lucky bastard! It’s about time you made it!” Robert Baratheon’s booming voice greeted them as they stepped out into the already considerable crowd. “Although if my lady looked like that, I’d probably still be locked away somewhere with her rather than at this pitiful affair.” He smiled at her. “You do look good enough to eat, Cat,” he said. “One of these days I’m going to steal you away from him.”

Catelyn had learned to more or less ignore Robert years ago, but this was the first time the man had laid eyes on her since aiding and abetting her boyfriend in cheating on her, and she found herself unable to take the high road. “Really, Robert?” she asked him, raising her eyebrows. “Would you like to take me boating, perhaps? I’ve never been on your boat, but I’ve seen pictures, and it’s lovely.”

Robert spit his drink, nearly hitting Brandon’s expensive suit with whatever alcohol he was indulging in tonight. “Well, well,” he said. “Your southern belle has claws, my friend. Do you think I need stitches?”

Where Robert’s shock at her response had given way rather quickly to drunken amusement, Brandon looked annoyed. Before he could say anything nasty, Catelyn said, “Oh, I think you’ll live, Robert. And I’m hardly a southern belle. Riverrun is Kentucky, darling. Just barely south of the Mason-Dixon line.” She laid the accent on thick and batted her lashes, knowing that Robert basically considered anything south of his hometown of Chicago to be deep in the heart of Dixie.

She was rewarded with a smile from Robert, and so she continued to tease him. “If you ever ventured south of the windy city yourself, you’d know that over half the country is south of Chicago. To anyone from the deep south, I’m an absolute Yankee. Perhaps you have your Stark girlfriends mixed up. Ned’s lady is the true southern belle.”

At that, Robert coughed and turned an alarming shade of red, and Brandon looked decidedly uncomfortable. “Um, Cat,” he said. “I hadn’t had a chance to tell you. Ned and Ash broke up.”

“Really? What happened?” Catelyn didn’t miss the look exchanged between the two men. They were keeping something from her.

“It just didn’t work out. It was never going to, really. Anyone could see that. Ashara being such a flirt, such a life of the party kind of girl, and Ned being . . .well . . .Ned,” Robert said.

Catelyn had to admit there was a certain amount of truth to what he said. She’d never thought the two particularly well-suited, but they’d dated for roughly the past year. “But when did this happen?” she asked, still confused. “I spoke with Ned just before . . .” _just before that damned story ran everywhere._ “Just over a month ago, and he was taking her to dinner that night.”

“Not long after that, I suppose,” Brandon said vaguely, looking everywhere in the room except at her. “Holy shit, that’s Mace Tyrell!” he exclaimed suddenly.

“Of course, it is,” Robert said, grinning. “I told you I’d get him here, didn’t I?”

Brandon clapped him on the back. “You are a truly wonderful human being, Baratheon. How bout you introduce me?”

“My pleasure, Brandon.”

Brandon turned to Catelyn. “Hey, Cat, I do need to talk to this guy. He has an awful lot of cash that I could do beautiful things with if I can get him to give me the chance. Will you hate me for diving into business so quickly?”

She sighed. “I won’t hate you, Brandon.” _I can’t hate you. Whatever else I feel about you, I can’t find it in me to hate you._ “I’ll just get a drink. Do your thing. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re the best,” he said, giving her a quick peck on the cheek before grabbing Robert’s arm to lead him in the direction of Mace Tyrell.

“And Robert!” she called after them as the walked away. “The Tyrells are definitely deep south, so mind your manners!”

Robert and Brandon ignored her, but she heard a soft, low-pitched chuckle from somewhere behind her and turned around.

“Ned!” she said, with genuine pleasure. “It is so good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you, too, Cat. You look great.”

“Thanks,” she said with a smile. He looked at her as appreciatively as Robert had, but there was nothing in his gaze that made her skin crawl. While Ned obviously liked to look at her, he never did look at her as if she were some sort of treat to be consumed, and she rather liked that.

“I heard you say something about a drink,” he said then. “Would you like to come with me and get one?”

“God, yes,” she told him. “I don’t think I’m going to survive tonight without alcohol.”

He chuckled again and gave her his arm. She took it and allowed him to lead her to the bar.

 

_____________________________________________________________________________________

 

_God, she’s beautiful._

Ned found himself stealing glances at his brother’s girlfriend as he led her through the crowd toward the bar at the end of the room. He hadn’t spoken to Catelyn in over a month. Hadn’t seen her since they’d all gone to dinner together to celebrate Brandon’s Time cover. Of course, he’d barely spoken to Brandon or Robert in the past month either. And after what happened with Ash . . .well, he hadn’t spoken to much of anybody since early November, he supposed.

_Jesus, Ned. Why don’t you mope a little more?_

“What’s your poison, my lady?” he asked her with a lopsided grin when they finally reached the bar.

“Other than your brother, you mean?” she asked him. Apparently, the shock showed on his face because she immediately looked contrite. “I’m sorry, Ned. That was uncalled for.”

“No,” he told her quietly. “It was entirely called for.” When she simply looked at him without saying anything else, he said, “He’s my brother, and I love him. I know you love him, too, and if you can forgive him and he can be worth your forgiveness, then I’m happy for both of you.” He gave her a small smile. “Doesn’t mean we can’t acknowledge that he behaved like an asshole, though.”

“Thanks,” she said, with just a ghost of a laugh. “I wouldn’t have said that to anyone else, though. I never seem to watch my tongue around you.”

“You don’t ever have to. Now what do you want to drink?”

“Oh, just a white wine, I suppose. If I start drinking hard stuff now, I’ll be a mess by midnight, and won’t that make for pretty tabloid pictures---Brandon Stark’s distraught girlfriend makes a fool of herself at the Baratheon holiday bash!”

Ned frowned at her. “You could never make a fool of yourself, Cat.” He ordered her white wine and a scotch for himself and then steered her toward a couple seats near the window. “Robert told me he hasn’t invited any media,” he assured her, holding her arm as she sat down.

“And you believe that attention hound? Anyway, they hardly need an invite. Everyone here has a cell phone, and at least half the people here would be more than happy to sell a picture of any of us if the price were right.”

“Sadly, that’s likely true,” Ned agreed. He looked at her closely. “Are you really okay, Cat? I don’t mean to pry, but being here can’t be comfortable for you.”

“It’s not,” she said honestly. “But it wouldn’t be comfortable wherever Brandon and I went out for the first time since . . .you know. Might as well get it over with if we’re going to give this relationship another go.”

“You’re sure this is what you want?” He told himself he was asking the question entirely out of a concern for her well being. He didn’t necessarily believe himself.

“Honestly? I don’t know what I want, Ned. But three years is a long time, and it just doesn’t seem right to throw that away over one stupid mistake.” Ned saw that she was watching him closely, and he attempted to keep his face as blank as possible when she said the words ‘one stupid mistake.’ He’d long thought she suspected Brandon had been less than faithful to her on more than one occasion, and he’d have a hell of a time lying to her if she asked him outright. She didn’t ask him, though. Of course, she didn’t. Cat would never put him in that position. “I would like to thank you,” she said instead.

“For what? The wine was free, you know. It’s open bar.”

She laughed at his feeble joke and then said. “I know how you told off Brandon and Robert after everything that happened. It felt good to know someone was truly angry on my behalf rather than secretly enjoying all the drama.”

“They were wrong,” he said simply. “Especially Brandon.”

She nodded. “Yes. But I am glad you’re speaking to them again. I felt awful that you were cut off from your brother and your best friend on my account.”

“Don’t. You didn’t cause any of it.” In truth, he still had a difficult time not being angry with his brother and Robert over what Cat had suffered. There was a reason he hadn’t approached the three of them together when she and Brandon had arrived. He hadn’t trusted himself to be civil.

“Oh!” she said suddenly, reaching out to touch his arm. “God I am selfish! I am so sorry, Ned. Going on about me and Brandon and our troubles with you, of all people. Brandon told me about Ashara.”

Ned nearly choked on his scotch. “Brandon . . .told you about . . .Ashara?”

“Yes,” she said, looking at him oddly. “He said you’d broken up nearly a month ago.”

“He told you we broke up.”

“Yes. Was he wrong? Robert said it, too.”

“Oh,” Ned said, realizing that Brandon had probably said as little as possible on the subject. “Yes. I mean no, he wasn’t wrong. Yes, we broke up.”

“I’m sorry, Ned,” she told him, blue eyes expressing sincere concern.

“I’m all right, Cat, really.”

“What happened?”

She asked the question so innocently, so clearly from concern for him that he found himself answering in spite of himself. “I found her with another man.”

“What? Oh my god, Ned!”

He shook his head. “It shouldn’t have surprised me, really. And it wasn’t all her fault.”

Catelyn looked at him skeptically. “How, precisely, was it not her fault?”

He sighed. “We’re very different people, Ash and me. It surprised the hell out of almost everyone that we got together in the first place. She’s . . .beautiful, obviously. She sparkles, lights up a room. She breathes energy into anyplace she goes and anyone she’s with. I was drawn to her like moth to a light, I suppose. As for what she saw in me . . .I think she thought she needed a bit of an anchor, someone who didn’t spin as wildly as she did because two people spinning that fast are pretty much destined to spin out of control.” He shrugged. “And weirdly enough, it worked . . .for awhile. But I don’t think it was enough for either of us after a few months. I think we both ended up wanting . . .something the other just couldn’t give us. And finally, being Ash, she just reached out and took what she wanted. I can’t actually blame her for being herself. But I couldn’t stay with her. That isn’t what I want.”

Cat was quiet for a moment. “That must be nice, at least. To actually know what you want.”

_Only if you can have it._

“Well, I know what I don’t want anyway,” he said. “I suppose that’s a start.”

She smiled at him. “You’re only twenty-three, Ned. You’ll figure it out.”

“Twenty-four, actually now,” he mumbled, hoping he didn’t sound as childish as he feared he did.

Her blue eyes opened widely. “Oh my god, that’s right! Ned, we missed your birthday! Oh, I am so sorry. Breaking up with your girlfriend, your brother and I having all our drama . . .what lousy timing!” She shook her head. “Did Brandon call you at least?”

He shook his own head. “It was all right, Cat. Lya took me out to dinner. I paid, of course. And she got irritated that I wouldn’t buy her alcohol.” He laughed. “But we had pretty good time anyway.”

She joined his laughter. “Well, she can buy her own booze as of this summer. Where is she, anyway? Didn’t Robert invite her? God knows he’d give her whatever she wanted to drink.”

She was teasing him, Ned knew, but he scowled anyway. Robert was crazy about his little sister, or at least as crazy as Robert could be about any one girl. _Not unlike Brandon is with Cat._ That thought made him scowl more deeply. “She didn’t want to come,” he said shortly. “She actually went back up to Winterfell for the holidays already.”

Catelyn raised her eyebrows, and Ned had to laugh in spite of his worry about his sister. “No doubt she’ll be bored to death long before the holiday’s over, but she does get on well with Ben, and he and Dad will fuss over her.” He hesitated. “And sometimes home is where you need to go to lick your wounds.”

“Wounds?” Catelyn said with concern in her voice. “Did something happen with Robert?”

“She doesn’t care enough about Robert for anything he does to truly wound her, Cat.” He sighed. “I’m afraid she got involved with someone at school. I don’t know who. She wouldn’t say. But she did tell me she’d behaved like an idiot, and she needed to get away for awhile--just to clear her head. Winterfell’s a good place to do that.”

“Poor kid,” Cat said sympathetically.

“She’s not even quite two years younger than you are, Cat,” Ned said then, laughing at her.

Her cheeks colored the way they did so often, and he found himself feeling warmer at the sight of it as he did so often, but before either of them could speak again, his brother’s voice came booming at them.

“There’s the most beautiful girl at the party!” Brandon exclaimed loudly. Catelyn’s cheeks colored further, but the smile left her face, and Ned felt a flash of anger toward his brother. Cat hated being made any kind of public spectacle. You’d think his idiot brother would have realized that after three years with her.

“Brandon,” she said, rising from the chair, and fixing a thoroughly false smile on her face as she turned to greet Brandon, Robert, and a man Ned recognized after a moment as Mace Tyrell. He grimaced, but stood when she did and prepared to make small talk if necessary.

“Mace,” Brandon said with a grin, _(Mace,_ thought Ned, _like they’re old friends. I know perfectly well you’ve never met the man_ _before, Brandon)_ “I’d like you to meet Miss Catelyn Tully.” He stepped toward Catelyn and put an arm around her, his expression exuding both possessiveness and pride.

“And this is Ned Stark,” Cat said quickly before Tyrell could respond. “Brandon’s brother.”

“Oh, yeah. My brother, Ned.” Brandon said, “Who’s very kindly been taking care of my girl for me while we talked, Mace.”

Ned said nothing to that and hoped he was successful in keeping his face expressionless.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Tully,” Mace Tyrell said then, his accent clearly identifying his South Carolina roots. “And you, Mr. Stark,” he said politely, nodding briefly to Ned before turning back to Cat. “I hope your father is well, Miss Tully. I had the pleasure of meeting him some years ago at the Derby. Fine man, Hoster. And very proud of you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Tyrell,” she replied. “Daddy is very well. I’ll be going down to Riverrun for Christmas soon, and I’ll tell him you asked after him.” Her voice was all courtesy and charm, but Ned could tell she was uncomfortable with the rather tight grip Brandon had on her. He also seemed to be slowly maneuvering her toward the left, although Ned couldn’t figure out why he’d be doing that.

“You two lovebirds aren’t spending the holiday together?” Mace Tyrell asked, his voice nearly as charming as Cat’s, slightly teasing even. Ned could see the calculation in the man’s eyes, though. He was seeking information. He wanted to know everything he could find out about Brandon Stark before considering going into business with him.

“Of course, we’ll be together over the holidays,” Brandon put in quickly, still moving very slowly leftward with Catelyn in tow. “But Hoster wants to see his daughter, of course, so Cat will head south while I spend a few days making sure nothing’s left undone at the office here, and then we’ll meet up.”

Ned could tell by the way Catelyn caught her lower lip in her teeth that this was the first she’d heard of this plan, but she didn’t give Brandon away. “We’re both very close to our families, Mr. Tyrell,” she said sweetly. “I’ve never missed a Christmas at Riverrun, and all the Starks go to Winterfell so we just have to work it out.” She smiled. “We always manage.”

Robert, who’d been unusually quiet to this point suddenly entered the conversation. “Brandon,” he said, pointing upward with a grin, “Do you realize where you two are standing?”

A man Ned didn’t know was standing just behind Robert, and at those words, he saw the stranger raise a camera. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Ned turned his eyes upward and clearly saw the reason Brandon had been moving Catelyn to stand where she was now.

 

_____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Catelyn’s head was spinning as if she’d had at least three glasses of wine instead of the half glass she’d drunk before Brandon and his entourage interrupted her conversation with Ned. She’d known it was important to Brandon that they be seen together. She’d thought herself prepared to endure smiling through the inevitable inquiries about their relationship status. But she hadn’t been prepared for this.

Brandon looked upward at Robert’s remark, and then looked at her, an impossibly perfect smile on his handsome features. “It would seem we’ve wandered under some mistletoe, my love,” he said, his grey eyes sparkling.

_Wandered, my ass._

“You’ve gotta kiss her now, Stark!” Robert exclaimed, sounding to Catelyn like a particularly obnoxious third grader on a playground.

“That will be my pleasure,” Brandon said, never once taking his eyes from hers.

Before she could say anything, he had both arms around her, pulling her to him and putting his mouth on hers. This wasn’t any perfunctory kiss to satisfy some silly tradition. This was a kiss that spoke of devotion, desire, and a promise of more to come. Almost of their own volition, Catelyn’s arms wound around his neck. Brandon’s kisses had always made her feel deliciously reckless, and her only thought at first was that she had missed being kissed like this. Then she heard the people around begin hooting and clapping, and her cheeks flamed hot. Before she could break the embrace, however, she also heard the telltale click of a camera and saw several bright flashes from somewhere nearby.

She turned her head to pull her lips away from Brandon’s, and he whispered against her ear. “You are so beautiful, Cat. I wish I could take you home right now.” There came more clicks and flashes, and she could see in her mind’s eye a magazine picture of the handsome Stark heir, transgressions forgiven, whispering sweet nothings into his true love’s ear.

She smiled up at him sweetly and mouthed, “Let go of me before I push you away.”

A brief cloud of anger crossed the grey eyes then, but he smiled at her before anyone else could possibly see it. Releasing her and reaching to take one of her hands in his, he turned to the small crowd that had gathered. “I’m afraid I’ve embarrassed my lady quite enough, folks. Any further kissing will be conducted in private.” He held her hand and stepped out from beneath the mistletoe to the accompaniment of appreciative laughter. “If anyone else wants to make use of this particularly excellent Christmas tradition, I encourage you to go for it. Just not with my girl. You’ll have to find your own.” Several men chuckled again at that, and Catelyn actually began to feel a little nauseous.

Striving to look as dignified as possible when she knew her entire face likely matched the color of her hair, she forced her lips into a smile as she looked up at him. “You’re a very good kisser, Brandon,” she said brightly. “But then I already knew that, so I don’t think we need to do any further mistletoe demonstrations.” She swatted his shoulder playfully, and most of the people gathered around began to move about, returning to their own conversations, seeking out refills on their drinks, or perhaps looking for someone to shove under the mistletoe themselves.

Mace Tyrell still stood before them, and Catelyn couldn’t help but think that he was watching her entirely too closely. She turned slightly and nearly gasped when she saw Ned. He was standing somewhat behind Tyrell, staring at his brother with an expression that was nothing short of murderous. Apparently, Robert Baratheon had noticed it, too, because he was now right beside Ned with his hand on his arm, saying something to him under his breath.

Ned’s eyes moved to look at hers, questioning. She couldn’t say anything, but she looked directly back at him, willing him to accept that she was all right, even if she wasn’t certain that she was. Her message apparently got through because after a moment, Ned reluctantly let Robert lead him away toward the bar. With a pang, she realized that she hated to see him go.

“Well, Miss Tully,” Mace Tyrell drawled then. “This young man certainly seems smitten with you.” He turned to Brandon. “I feel rather guilty taking you away from such a delightful lady, but I would like to speak with you further, Stark.”

Brandon smiled, and Catelyn recognized the anticipation of triumph in his eyes. “Why don’t you join my brother and Robert at the bar, Mace, and I’ll be with you in a moment. Cat’s sister’s here somewhere, and I’d like to help her find her.”

Catelyn had no interest in finding Lysa, considering she was with Petyr, but she supposed Brandon was just looking for a polite way to rid themselves of Tyrell for a few moments. It worked. Tyrell nodded politely to both of them and turned to follow after Ned and Robert.

“Are you mad at me, Cat?” Brandon said as soon they were out of earshot. She looked up at his face to see that he was giving her his very best puppydog eyes. “You staged that entire scene, Brandon,” she accused him. “And not just for Mace Tyrell. That was a kiss for the camera, not for me. And Robert specifically told Ned there wouldn’t be any media people here. Who the hell was that cameraman?”

Brandon sighed, seeming to realize she wasn’t ready to kiss and make up. He took her by the arm and led her through the crowd, down a short hallway, and into another room.

“Really, Brandon?” she asked him, surveying the room he had brought her to. “A bedroom? Do you need everyone here to think you’re fucking me right now as well?”

“God, Cat! I didn’t even know it was a bedroom. I just wanted to talk to you in private.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry about the picture thing. It was Robert’s idea. Dad’s all over my ass about the bad press we’ve gotten since all that bullshit about Barbrey was printed.”

“It isn’t bullshit when it’s true,” she said coldly.

“I didn’t mean . . .look, I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry a million times. I’ve already told you that, and I’ll tell you again if you want me to. You are what matters to me. And you know that kiss was all about you. Don’t tell me you didn’t like it, Cat. We’re still good together. I wanted to show you that.”

“You could have shown me without showing everyone in America, Brandon.”

“That was Robert’s idea,” he said again. “He said there’s nothing to make people forget about bad press like a nice dose of good press. And Jesus, Cat, you gotta figure nobody knows more about bad press than Robert. The shit he pulls . . .” Brandon shook his head. “Anyway, I’ve been dying to kiss you like that since you told me you’d give me another chance. I’ve been dying to do a lot more. No, not here in Robert’s guest bedroom in the middle of his party,” he clarified as she glared at him. “But I really do want you to come back to my place and stay tonight, Cat. I meant that. It’s just . . .you’re my girl. I’ve got you back and I intend to keep you. I will make you happy. I want you to know that, and I have no problem with the whole world knowing it, too.”

She looked at him. “That doesn’t change the fact that you used me, Brandon. I’m not a prop in a play. I deserve more respect than that.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, managing to look and sound very contrite. “It seems like I do one shitty thing after another, but I’m just trying to dig myself out of this hole, Cat. With you, with Dad, with our board members. Jesus, even Ned looks at me half the time like I’m something he needs to scrape off his shoe anymore!” He took both of her hands. “I’m trying, Cat. I swear to God I’m trying. And if I can get Mace Tyrell on board for some of our ventures . . .Dad’ll forgive me a hell of a lot then.”

She sighed and gave him a very small smile. “Get out of here, then,” she said. “Go find Tyrell.”

“Are we okay?” he asked her.

 _Are we okay?_ “I’m trying, too, Brandon,” she told him, giving him back his own words. “I swear to God I’m trying. I don’t know what else to say.”

He looked disappointed, but he nodded. “Wanna walk out with me?”

She smiled more genuinely at him then. “There’s a bathroom right there,” she said, pointing. “And I’m afraid some man kissed off all my lipstick. I’ll stay here and fix my face, and then I’ll go back out. I’m all right, Brandon. It’s not about being mad at you, but I don’t want to walk around looking like a teenager who sneaked off to make out.”

“All right, Cat. I’ll see you in a bit.”

She stood looking after him for a moment after he left, trying to sort out what she felt and uncertain if she ever would. When she walked into the little bathroom, she laughed out loud looking up at the doorframe above her. A sprig of mistletoe. She wondered how many places Robert had hung the wretched stuff. She was rather surprised there wasn’t any over the bed, knowing Robert.

She was standing at the sink reapplying her lipstick when she heard a voice from somewhere behind her say, “He doesn’t deserve you.”

Turning, she saw Petyr Baelish standing in the center of the bedroom staring at her intently. “I saw what he did to you out there. He’s a pig, Cat. A lying, cheating bastard who doesn’t deserve you.”

“Petyr,” she said. “Where’s Lysa?”

He didn’t answer her question, instead taking a couple of steps toward her. “He humiliated you out there. After what he’s already done to you. He made people laugh at you.”

Petyr’s gait was slightly unsteady, and he was obviously drunk. His words shouldn’t be able to hurt her. She knew that. But now she wondered if people were laughing at her, thinking her a fool for showing up again on Brandon Stark’s arm, kissing Brandon Stark in the middle of a crowded room. Catelyn Tully did not like being laughed at. “Petyr,” she said, a little more sharply, “Where is my sister?”

“At the bar, I think,” he said offhandedly, as if his date’s current location was no concern of his. “I wanted to kill him, Cat. I wanted to kill him for hurting you. And for putting his filthy hands on you like that.”

She took a step toward him. “Petyr, you need to go. I am here with Brandon. You are here with Lysa. And you have no cause to speak to me like this.”

“I have every cause to speak to you. I love you, Cat. I love you, and I will never treat you like Stark does. I’ll never even look at another woman if I have you. And he fucks any woman that offers. You know you deserve better than that. Let me love you, Cat.”

He continued to advance on her, and Catelyn actually began to feel afraid. Petyr wasn’t a large man. She probably had a good two inches on him in her high heels, but the look in his eyes was terrifying, and she had no doubts that he was stronger than she was regardless of their relative heights.

“You need to leave, Petyr. Now. I don’t want you here.”

“You do want me. I know you want me. I know how your lips feel, Cat. I know what it’s like to hold you, and I know you felt what I did.”

For a moment she was at a loss. Then she remembered the stupid games they had played as children when he’d stayed at Riverrun--truth or dare, kissing catchers. “For God’s sake, Petyr. We were kids. You were what? Nine? ten? You were sweet, so Lysa and I humored you, that’s all.”

“No!” The young man nearly shouted, and Catelyn started to panic. She didn’t want to be found in a bedroom with Petyr Baelish. “You loved me, and I know deep down you still do.”

“Petyr,” Catelyn sighed. Before she could say anything else, Baelish suddenly grinned at her, and she looked at him in puzzlement.

“Mistletoe,” he said, pointing above her. The very next instant, it seemed, he was on her. His arms were wrapped tightly around her, pinning her arms to her sides. His mouth was on hers with his lips parted and his tongue pushing between her lips, his hot breath smelling of bourbon.

“Petyr! Stop it! Stop it right now!” she hissed at him, twisting her head to get her mouth away from his. She struggled to free herself from his grasp, but he held her tightly, simply putting his lips to her neck once she’d turned her face from him. She didn’t want to shout. She didn’t want this in any magazines, but she had to make him stop. “You’re hurting me,” she said desperately.

“I’ll never hurt you, Cat. Never.” He broke off slobbering on her to look up at her, his eyes a little glassy, but filled with an avaricious sort of lust.

“Petyr, please,” she pleaded, hating the tears that filled her eyes. “Please just let me go.”

“You don’t want me to let you go. Not really. You want me to keep you safe. And I will.” He pressed his lips against hers again. Unable to free her arms, she raised up one foot and brought the heel of her shoe down firmly on the top of his foot.

Crying out, he jumped backward, releasing his grip on her. She knew she should run, but she was too angry. Stepping toward him, she slapped him hard across the face. “How dare you touch me like that?” she spat at him. “You have no right!”

An ugly expression crossed Petyr’s face then, and moving more quickly than she’d have thought possible in his intoxicated state, he grabbed her wrists and pushed her back into the little bathroom, pinning her against the wall with the weight of his body and pressing her hands against the wall on either side of her head. “No right?” he asked her. “I have loved you since I was eight years old. Everything I’ve ever done is for you. What has Stark ever done but lie and cheat and make a fool of you? I’m the one who deserves you, Cat. Not him! But he drags you under these stupid berries, and you all but let him fuck you in a room full of people! I would never do that! I only want to kiss you. Here with just the two of us.” His voice sounded almost pitiful now, a desperate, ugly pleading note in it that made Catelyn cringe. “Why him? Why can’t you love me? There’s the goddamn mistletoe! So kiss me, Cat! Kiss me like you kissed Stark!”

He was almost crying, and Catelyn found herself inexplicably feeling sorry for him. “Petyr,” she said softly. That was a mistake. As soon as he recognized the slightest softening of her expression, he was kissing her again, pressing his body into hers even more forcefully as his mouth moved roughly over her face and neck. “I love you, Cat. Only you,” he breathed against her skin.

She shut her eyes tightly against his unwelcome presence. “Petyr, please,” she half-sobbed. “I’ll scream,” she started to say, but before she could even get the words out, Petyr’s weight against her disappeared suddenly with a shout and a loud crash.

She opened her eyes to see Brandon Stark standing over her, grey eyes dark with fury. For a crazy moment, she thought Petyr had vanished. Then he moaned, and she saw him through the doorway of the bathroom, lying on the bedroom floor, the broken pieces of the wooden chair that used to sit in that spot lying around him.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Brandon demanded, bringing her eyes back to him. “What are you doing?”

“What am _I_ doing?” she repeated incredulously. She was still breathing hard, still recovering from the horrific experience of being held against the wall and touched against her will.

“Yes! What are you doing?” Brandon repeated. “And why the hell would you be doing it with Baelish?”

She laughed then, almost hysterically. “Well, Brandon,” she said once she’d stopped laughing. “I’m not entirely certain, but I think I was trying very hard not to be raped.”

“Raped,” Brandon repeated, nearly growling the word. “By him.” He indicated Petyr lying on the floor with a jerk of his head in that direction.

“Shoved against a wall and groped and licked and generally violated at any rate,” she said, angry tears springing to her eyes to replace the frightened ones of moments ago. _Why don’t you hold me, Brandon? Why don’t you tell me I’m safe now?_

Brandon didn’t move, though. His eyes remained stormy. “You didn’t let him . .He forced himself on you,” he said in a low voice that was barely audible, but threatening all the same.

“Yes, Brandon,” she said through gritted teeth. “He forced me.” She held her hands up in front of her, the pale skin of her wrists already starting to purple where Petyr’s fingers had gripped her so painfully.

Brandon’s jaw clenched even tighter. He seemed almost to tremble, and Catelyn took a step toward him, seeking to give and receive comfort, but he pushed away the hand she held out.

“I’ll fucking kill him,” he growled, and then he was through the door jerking Petyr up off the floor by the front of his shirt before Catelyn could even react.

“Stand up, you little shit,” Brandon shouted. “Stand up so I can knock you on your ass again.”

“You don’t deserve her,” Petyr said, licking his bottom lip which Catelyn saw now was split open. “She’s better than you.”

“You fucking little asshole!” Brandon was still holding Petyr up with his left hand, but he brought his right fist forward into the younger man’s face, and Catelyn heard the sickening crunch of Petyr’s nose breaking before he fell once more to the floor.

“Brandon!” she cried. “Stop!”

But Brandon was standing over Petyr’s supine form. “Get up, you little pervert. Get up! You think you’re a man? Get up and fight like one.”

Petyr had curled into a ball on the floor and held one hand up to fend off Brandon as the other clutched at his profusely bleeding nose.”

“Get up!” Brandon shouted again. “She is not yours to touch! Do you hear me?” He aimed a vicious kick at Petyr’s ribs, and Catelyn jumped at the sound of the impact.

“Brandon! Please!”

“She’s mine, you asshole, and I will kill you before I let you touch her!” He kicked Petyr where he lay again.

“Please, Brandon!” Catelyn begged. “You are going to kill him! Stop!”

Brandon was glaring down at Petyr, taking great big breaths, but he did look up at Catelyn then. “Why should I stop, Cat?” he asked her. “Do you want his fucking hands on you again?” Brandon’s eyes were wild as he looked at her. She knew he had a temper, but she’d never seen him like this.

“No! Of course not! But I don’t want you to kill him.”

Brandon hesitated, and Catelyn thought perhaps she’d broken through the fog of his rage. She started to reach out to him again, but then Petyr started making a choking sort of sound.

Stunned, Catelyn realized he was laughing through the blood draining into his throat. “She loves me, you fool. Of course, she doesn’t want me dead. She’s too good for you, Stark.”

“Petyr, shut up!” Catelyn said desperately, but it was too late. Brandon’s eyes blazed nearly black, and he jumped down on top of the injured Baelish. “I will fucking kill you, you son of a bitch!” he shouted as he began beating Petyr repeatedly with his fists upon his head and chest.

“Brandon!” she shrieked. “Brandon!” But Brandon was past listening to her. She didn’t even think he heard her. She ran for the doorway into the hall, wondering why no one else had come running when the shouting had started. As she stepped out into the hallway, the reason for that became clear enough. People were now dancing out in the big open room, and the music was so loud, the walls and floor seemed to vibrate. She’d likely have heard it in the bedroom had her mind not been completely taken up by the unbelievable chain of events she’d just lived through. Before she had taken five steps in the direction of that music, though, she saw Ned Stark coming toward accompanied by her sister, Lysa.

_Oh, God. Lysa! She doesn’t need to see this._

Ned had apparently gotten a good look at her face because he suddenly broke into a run, leaving Lysa behind him. “My god, Cat! What happened to you? Are you all right?” he exclaimed, reaching out his hands to hold onto her arms.

She felt an overwhelming desire to just collapse into his arms and sob, but she couldn’t do that. “I’m fine,” she choked out. “But Brandon . . .you have to stop him, Ned. Make him stop . . .in there!” She motioned toward the bedroom, but knew she wasn’t making sense. She realized she could easily hear the sounds of the beating taking place though, and she watched the color drain from Ned’s face as he heard it, too.

He tightened his grip on her arms before he did anything else. “You’re sure you’re all right?” he asked, staring intently into her eyes.

She nodded. “Just go!”

He squeezed her arms once and ran past her toward the bedroom. She almost turned to follow him when she remembered her sister who was just now reaching her. “Cat!” Lysa said in alarm, apparently taking her first good look at her. “What on earth have you been doing?”

“I . . .” Catelyn started. Before she could figure out any remotely gentle way to break it to her sister what had taken place in that room, the sound of someone’s fist hitting someone else and Brandon’s loud swearing came from within.

Lysa’s eyes went wide. “It sounds like your boyfriend and his brother are having a fight!”

Catelyn shook her head. “Not Brandon and Ned,” she said, although to be honest, it certainly sounded like Brandon and Ned might be fighting now. She sighed. “It’s Petyr . . .he . . .”

“Petyr? You know where he is? I’ve been looking for him for ages! He went to get us more drinks and . . .”

“Even your brother knows you don’t deserve her!” Petyr Baelish’s voice, still mocking although his words were somewhat indistinct either from intoxication or injuries to his mouth, drifted clearly into the hallway.

“Petyr!” Lysa exclaimed and ran into the bedroom.

After closing her eyes briefly in a silent appeal for strength, Catelyn followed her.

“Petyr! Oh my god, Petyr what have they done to you?” came her sister’s voice clearly enough.

“Cat?” That was Petyr, his voice sounding as thick and strangled on the single syllable of her name as it had on his previous sentence.

“It’s me, my love! It’s Lysa.”

“Lysa . . .where’s Cat?”

Catelyn had advanced far enough into the room to see where everyone was now. Petyr Baelish still lay on the floor, not far from where she’d left Brandon pummeling him. His face was a bloody mess, and his eyes were swollen nearly shut. Lysa was down on her knees with his head cradled in her lap. “Hush, love. I’m here . . .” she crooned before looking up to glare at Brandon. “What did you do to him?” she demanded.

“Cat . .” Petyr mumbled, and Catelyn wondered if he were about to lose consciousness, if she should call an ambulance. She, too, looked at Brandon who stood rigid as a statue several feet away from Petyr, now sporting his own black eye, but glaring down at the smaller man with every bit as much rage and loathing as he’d exhibited when he’d been beating him. Behind him stood Ned, with a hand firmly on each of his brother’s arms, holding him in place. The knuckles of Ned’s right hand looked swollen. _Oh, God. Ned had to hit him. He had to hit Brandon to get him off Petyr._

Ned’s face was a grim echo of Brandon’s. He looked from Baelish on the floor up to her disheveled hair and tearstained face, and she watched the muscle in his jaw tighten almost imperceptibly.

“What did you do to him, Brandon?” Lysa demanded again.

“I tried to kill him,” Brandon said bluntly in a voice like ice. Catelyn had always thought him most alarming when his temper gave way to that icy stillness. You never knew when it might explode again.

“What?” Lysa cried out.

“He obviously attacked Catelyn,” Ned said, speaking for the first time since she’d entered the room, and Catelyn realized his voice held the same icy fury as Brandon’s. She’d never heard Ned sound like that before.

“Petyr would never hurt anybody!” Lysa protested. “Tell them Cat!” she demanded. “Tell them that’s a lie.”

“He . . .he kissed me, Lysa,” Catelyn said softly.

Petyr stirred at the sound of her voice. “Cat . . .” he murmured. Lysa’s expression went from concerned to angry in less than ten seconds.

“You kissed him?” she demanded, twisting around to look at Catelyn. “How dare you kiss him? He’s mine, Cat! You know he’s mine! You can’t always take everything!”

“I didn’t kiss him . . I . . .” Catelyn stammered, at a loss for words in the face of her sister’s baseless and hurtful accusation.

“She didn’t kiss him, you stupid cow,” Brandon said coldly, pulling his arms from Ned’s grip and walking to stand over Lysa. “He kissed her . . .after shoving her against a wall and holding her arms so tightly she has bruises.” Catelyn nearly screamed then as he reached a hand down toward her sister’s face, but he only turned it to look toward him in an almost gentle manner. “Baelish is a sick little fuck,” he said very slowly, clearly, and quietly. “He doesn’t give three shits about you. He’s been obsessed with Cat for years, and if he hasn’t screamed out her name when he’s fucking you yet, it’s only a matter of time, little Lysa. You ought to leave him here bleeding all over Robert’s rug and cut your losses.”

With that, he spit downward directly into Petyr’s nearly unrecognizable face and walked toward the door. He paused when he reached her just before the doorway. “Cat?” he said softly.

“I have to take care of Lysa,” she whispered, not looking him in the eyes.

He nodded. She knew he wanted her to come with him, but she wasn’t sure how she felt about him right now. Petyr had been wrong, of course, but somehow she couldn’t get past the fact that Brandon had been more angry at Petyr than concerned about her. Or that his first thought had been to question her. Without another word, he walked from the room.

“You don’t have to take care of me,” Lysa hissed angrily. “I will take care of Petyr. I don’t know what you did to him. How you tricked him. But I know it was your fault! You always ruin things because everything has to be about you!”

“Lysa . . .”

“Don’t talk to me!” Lysa turned completely away from her and went back to stroking Petyr’s bloody hair and telling his apparently unconscious form how much she loved him. It occurred to Catelyn for the first time that her sister was likely drunk. Petyr certainly had been, and they’d come to the party together. Catelyn had no doubt that Lysa had stuck to him like glue until he’d slipped away on the pretense of getting more drinks.

She sighed heavily, accepting the fact that there was likely nothing she could do at the moment to keep her sister from hating her. “You should go after him, Ned,” she said then. “He doesn’t need to be alone.”

“Fuck him,” Ned said coldly, barely above a whisper, and Catelyn raised her brow. “Look at you,” he said then. “You’re still shaking.” She realized it was true as he said it. He shook his head slowly. “I am grateful he was here to get the creep off you. But nothing he did after that . . .” He stopped speaking and pursed his lips together. “Do you think you’re all right to go find Robert and bring him here?” he asked after a moment. “Someone needs to get Baelish out of here, and likely get him to a doctor.”

Catelyn swallowed hard. “I can stay here with Lysa and Petyr,” she told him. “Go and get Robert, Ned. Send him here and then find Brandon. He needs you.”

“I am not leaving you here with him, Cat.” Ned’s voice did not invite argument.

“Look at him, Ned,” Catelyn protested. “He’s hardly a threat to me in this condition.”

“I don’t care about his condition except that I’d prefer him not expire for my idiot brother’s sake.”

He stared at Baelish for a moment. Lysa still held his head although she was slumped over him a little more than she had been. Her posture and her sudden complete lack of interest in their conversation seemed to confirm Catelyn’s suspicion that her younger sister was indeed quite drunk.

“You should not have to look at him,” Ned said quietly after a moment, his voice still angry, but with an undercurrent of something else. “You’re shaking. He hurt you. He frightened you. I want you away from him. That’s more important than his wellbeing . . .or his punishment.”

“I’ll be all right, Ned,” she said.

“You will. But you will be all right somewhere away from this piece of trash. Go and send Robert here, Cat. And then find somewhere quiet and sit down. I’ll come find you once we’ve . . .”

“No,” she interrupted. “I’ll go and find Robert. And then I promise I’ll sit down. And I won’t move. But once Robert’s got this in hand, you go find Brandon. He needs you, Ned.”

“But you . . .”

“I am fine,” she lied. He wanted to comfort her. He wanted to take care of her and make certain she was all right. He wanted to do everything she’d needed from Brandon when he’d first thrown Baelish out of the bathroom. And she realized she wanted to let him do it. “I’ll go get Robert.”

She had to consider Lysa first, though. “Come with me, Lysa?” she asked gently, leaning down to put a hand on her sister’s shoulder, but Lysa angrily shrugged her hand off refusing even to speak to her, and Catelyn felt the tears she was fighting so hard to keep down pricking at her eyes again.

“I’ll look out for her, Cat,” Ned said softly. “If she insists on going with Baelish, I’ll see to it she doesn’t go alone.”

“Thank you.” Lysa wouldn’t thank him, she knew. She looked down at Ned’s swollen knuckles. He may well have saved Petyr’s life tonight. Without another word, she turned and almost fled from the room. Ned had been very right about one thing. She had no wish to be anywhere near Petyr Baelish any longer.

She found Robert rather quickly. Not surprisingly, he’d already had quite a bit to drink, but Ned’s friend was possibly the best functioning drunk she’d ever met. Robert had enough sense to grab his brother Stannis as well, who was still a year shy of twenty-one and unlike every other underage guest here did not drink a drop. Catelyn suspected the grimly serious younger Baratheon would never be the drinker his brother was. He was a different type of man altogether, and while he was only Lysa’s age, she felt better for his getting involved. Similar to Ned, Stannis Baratheon had what her father would call an ‘old soul.’ It was hard to think of either of them ever being truly childish, irresponsible, or immature.

Robert offered to have his driver take her home, but Catelyn felt she couldn’t just leave Brandon like that, regardless of how upset she was about so many things. She wandered into the bathroom off the entry hall and made repairs to her hair and make-up, and then found a little alcove near the entry that was almost its own room. No one was there, and the wall between it and the main living area muffled the sound of the music enough that at least it didn’t set her already frayed nerves on edge. There was a little sofa there, and she sank down onto it gratefully. _I did promise Ned I’d sit down._ As she let her body relax ever so slightly, she realized that she’d done her make-up repairs prematurely. Once she let her guard down, she found herself shaking harder than ever, and every tear she’d held back during the entire ordeal began swimming in her eyes. Alone in the alcove, Catelyn Tully put her face in her hands and simply let the tears fall.

 

_____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Ned Stark rubbed his temples, but it did little for his headache. He considered getting another scotch, but he’d already had two, and he almost never had more than two drinks. He certainly didn’t need to be drunk on this night, regardless of how tempting that might me. He needed to find Catelyn. _No,_ he told himself sternly. _You WANT to find Cat. You NEED to find Brandon. And you promised her you would._

He surveyed the crowd of revelers happily dancing, drinking, and likely cutting million dollar deals all throughout the large, open main room of Robert’s enormous apartment. It seemed incredible to him that not one of them had the first clue of what had gone on just down the hallway. _Thank God for service elevators._ While most of these people were undoubtedly self-absorbed, they still would likely have noticed had he and Stannis been forced to carry the unconscious, bleeding Petyr Baelish through the center of the dance floor.

Once Robert and Stannis had arrived in the bedroom, things had been taken care of relatively quickly. He could have done without drunken Lysa Tully’s tears and and angry outbursts, but once they made it clear to her that no one was going to try to separate her from Baelish, she became more manageable. While Robert made phone calls, Ned and Stannis had gotten Petyr into the back elevator and down to the basement garage where they’d tossed him rather carelessly into the backseat of Stannis’s car. A sullen Lysa had climbed into the passenger seat, and after receiving some final instructions from Robert via cellphone, Stannis got behind the wheel. Robert wanted as few people as possible to know what had occurred, so he’d asked Stannis to drive the two of them away rather than calling for his own car and driver.

“I’m taking him to get checked out,” Stannis had said after hanging up. “Robert knows a guy who can make sure he didn’t break anything important without asking any questions.”

Robert always knows a guy, Ned thought. “And Lysa?” he’d asked.

Stannis had frowned at him. “I may not be happy about having to do this, Ned, but I’m not going to leave a drunk woman alone with an attempted rapist even if he is half dead.” He’d ground his teeth, and looked down at Lysa Tully as if she were a particularly irritating creature. “I will not leave either of them until I know they are both safely tucked in somewhere.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m not doing it for you.”

“Thank you, anyway.”

Stannis had looked at him a moment, nodded, and then turned the key in the ignition, prepared to carry out his brother’s instructions.

Recalling their exchange now, Ned sighed. For whatever reason, Robert’s brother had never liked him, but as sour as Stannis was, Ned knew he would carry out his assigned task without fail. Whoever Robert had found to doctor up Baelish would be discreet, too. In addition to Robert’s interest in protecting Brandon, both Lysa Tully and Petyr Baelish were under twenty-one and had gotten shitfaced at his home. Robert didn’t need any more alcohol related charges leveled his way. Between the brothers Baratheon, Ned knew that Cat’s sister and stalker were well taken care of. Now he had to find Brandon. _And then Cat._

After wandering unsuccessfully through the crowd for several minutes, Ned caught sight of snow flurries swirling around the balcony outside the big windows overlooking the park, and he smiled. If his idiot brother hadn’t left Robert’s altogether, he knew where he’d be. He turned back into the hallway, this time going all the way to the door at the back leading to Robert’s master suite. This room had its own balcony, and Robert had allowed Brandon the use of this apartment a number of times when Robert was staying in Chicago, so Brandon knew it was there.

No lights were on in the big bedroom, but Ned could see his brother out on the balcony plainly enough. He stood there without a coat, leaning on the rail, looking out into the night. Brandon’s room at Winterfell had a balcony, too, and Ned always knew to find him there when he was troubled. _A good place to lick your wounds._

“Is she all right, Ned?” Brandon asked without turning around when Ned opened the door to step out onto the balcony. Someone must have opened a door or window to the main balcony because the music was plainly audible, but a large, solid wall separated this balcony from that one, so he and Brandon were entirely alone.

“I haven’t really spoken much to her. She told me to find you.”

Brandon nodded, still not turning around. “What did you do with Baelish?”

“Robert called someone who’s willing to patch him up and make sure you didn’t do him any permanent damage. Stannis is driving him there. He’s taking Lysa Tully home, too.”

Brandon snorted. “Lysa Tully! She has got to be the stupidest girl I have ever met. And the way she treats Cat makes me want to slap her.”

“That’s rather harsh . . .coming from you,” Ned said icily.

Brandon did turn around then and Ned met his glare without flinching. After a moment, Brandon lowered his eyes slightly. “I suppose it is.” He turned back to look out toward the park.

After they’d stood there in silence for some time, Ned said, “You do realize it’s snowing, right?”

Brandon laughed. “When did that ever bother either of us?”

“Never,” Ned acknowledged. “But you’re getting pretty well covered, leaning out there like some kind of stone gargoyle. When you do go inside and that melts, you’ll be drenched.”

Brandon sighed and then stomped both feet, shaking snowflakes from his hair. “After you, little brother,” he said, motioning toward the door.

Ned stomped the snow from his own feet and opened the door to walk back into Robert’s spacious bedroom, followed by Brandon.

“I should probably go find her,” Brandon said once he shut the door behind him. “I know she’s pissed at me, but my god, Ned. Did you see the bruises that fucker put on her wrists?”

“I saw them.”

Brandon shook his head. “He deserved every blow I gave him. Whatever Cat thinks about it. I don’t know why in hell she always takes up for that little creep. Maybe tonight will cure her of that.”

“Cure her of that?” Ned asked incredulously. “Brandon, Catelyn was held against a wall and manhandled by a man we all know is obsessed with her. I’m quite certain she now considers him more dangerous than she did, but I doubt she’d look at the experience as a ‘cure’ for anything.” When Brandon remained silent, he continued, “She was shaking, Brandon. She never stopped shaking once. Not the entire time I was with her.”

“But . . .she isn’t hurt, right?” Brandon asked hesitantly.

“Aside from the bruises you already mentioned yourself?” Ned asked pointedly. “No, I don’t think so. Not physically, anyway. Did you even try to comfort her, Brandon?”

Brandon looked away. “I . . .I asked her what she was doing with Baelish,” he mumbled.

“You what?” Ned exploded. “Jesus, Brandon! You walked in on them and accused _her_?”

“I didn’t know what was going on, all right? I walked in there and he was all over her, and I was already pissed off at that condescending fucker, Mace Tyrell, and I . . .I was an idiot, okay? I know it was stupid!”

“Mace Tyrell?” Ned asked, wondering what the Charleston millionaire possibly had to do with any of this. “You and he went off to talk about proposals for diversifying Highgarden’s investments, but . . .”

“That’s what I thought we were going to talk about,” Brandon said darkly. “But instead he started going on about Cat. About how she’s a fine girl from a good family, blah, blah. And then going on about how much honorable behavior matters and how he prefers to know he’s doing business with men of honor. Christ, Ned! This is Mace fucking Tyrell, we’re talking about. We both know he’d slit an adversary’s throat if it gave him an advantage in a deal. He’s the most underhanded, double-dealing . . .it’s why Dad’s waited so long to consider working with him!” Brandon had been pacing back and forth while he spoke, but now he stopped and looked directly at Ned. “And he has the gall to question my honor? I have never double crossed anyone, Ned. You know that. If someone leaves me a loophole, I may drive through it, but I will never set anyone up. I have never made a deal I didn’t keep. I have never cheated a man in business.”

“No,” Ned said quietly. “You haven’t. But you have cheated a woman in love.”

“One thing has nothing to do with the other!” Brandon said in frustration.

Ned shrugged. “Not to you, apparently. Maybe Mace Tyrell thinks differently. I’ve heard he’s quite devoted to his wife and their two little boys. Different men have different definitions of honor, I suppose.”

Brandon looked at him. “And you, Ned? Do you think I’m dishonorable?”

Ned looked at his older brother and considered his answer carefully. “I think you try to be an honorable man, Brandon. But I can’t pretend to condone your behavior with women, especially the way you’ve treated Catelyn.”

“I treat her like she’s made of gold, Ned!”

“So you treat her like a thing.”

“That’s not what I meant!” He sighed and put his face in his hands. “I hate this,” he said quietly after a moment. “I hate fighting with you. I hate fighting with her. I hate feeling like I’m wrong all the time.”

Ned refrained from telling him that as far as his infidelities to Catelyn were concerned, he was wrong all the time. Instead, he waited to see what else his brother had to say.

Brandon sank down into one of the big, plush chairs Robert had in the room. “I don’t know if she can ever really forgive me, Ned.”

“For Barbrey? Or for your behavior concerning what happened with Baelish tonight?”

“I don’t know. Both, I suppose.”

Ned sat down across from his brother, looked at him, and thought long and hard before he responded. “I don’t know if she can, either, Brandon, but if she can, tell me this: Will it change anything?”

“Change anything?”

“Do you intend to marry Cat at some point? Do you intend to be faithful to her if you do? Do you even think you can be?”

Ned asked the questions he should have asked Brandon a long time ago. The questions he should have asked the very first time his brother had pulled him aside on a business trip and cautioned him not to mention anything to Cat about the girl he’d brought along. The questions Brandon should be asking himself right now.

“Come on, Ned. You know I broke it off with Barbrey. I told her I was really done this time. Finished. Over. I don’t want her and I don’t need her.”

Ned looked at him levelly. “You and I both know perfectly well Barbrey wasn’t the only one, Brandon.”

“Jesus, Ned!” Brandon said, standing up from his chair and walking away few steps. “I told you that time in my office with Ash was a one time thing! Let it go, already. I was a mess over that tabloid article, and Dad was livid, and Cat wasn’t speaking to me . . . I just . . .it just happened.”

Ned closed his eyes, wishing he could expunge from his mind the image of his former girlfriend sprawled naked on his brother’s desk, black hair spilling off the edge of it, legs locked around Brandon’s back as he stood bending over her with his pants around his ankles, his mouth on her breast, his hips thrusting into her for all he was worth. The odd thing was that Brandon’s betrayal had hurt worse than Ashara’s. He’d spoken truly to Cat when he told her they had already been pretty much over by that point. In fact, realizing that he wasn’t terribly wounded by her actions confirmed in his mind that he needed to break it off.

Realizing just how little regard Brandon had for him or for anyone else whenever his dick was involved hurt him badly, though. He’d told himself for years that Brandon would grow up and be true when he found the right woman. Yet, there couldn’t be a woman in all the world more worth loving than Catelyn Tully, and his brother hadn’t changed at all. Ned had become very afraid that he never could, and he couldn’t stay silent anymore. Baelish had been right about one thing. Brandon didn’t deserve Cat.

“I wasn’t talking about Ashara,” he said, his eyes still closed. He sighed and opened his eyes to find his brother looking at him. “Or not only her, anyway. I’m talking about all of them, Brandon. All the girls. I don’t know how many there are, and I doubt you do either. Are you telling me you intend to put that all behind you if Cat truly takes you back?”

“They don’t mean anything, Ned,” Brandon insisted. “It’s just . . .sex. It’s . . .like scratching an itch. I took it too far with Barbrey, and I’ll never do that again. Cat’s the only girl who’s ever meant anything to me. You know that’s true.”

Ned nodded. “I suppose. But do you think knowing that she’s more to you than . . .an itch . . .will make your screwing around all right with her?”

“Of course, it doesn’t,” Brandon snapped.

“Then you intend to stop? Forever?”

“Ned, this is really none of your . . .”

“None of my business, Brandon? But you make it my business every time you show up with a girl you tell me not speak to Cat about. You make it my business every time you have me call her with some lame excuse for your absence when I know perfectly well it’s a lie. I’m finished lying for you. I can’t lie to Catelyn anymore. She deserves better than that.”

“Oh,” Brandon said. “I see what this is. Are you telling me she deserves someone like you? Are you going after my girlfriend, little brother, because I banged yours? You can just forget about that, Ned, because I am not about to let you have her.”

“For God’s sake, Brandon, listen to yourself!” Ned shouted, standing up himself. “If you think for one minute I’d ever want you to feel the way I felt when I walked into that office, you don’t know me at all! If you think Catelyn is some possession for you to keep or give away by your choice, you don’t know her at all!”

“I just want things back the way they were, Ned,” Brandon said, almost pleadingly. “I want to fix this. To put things back the way they were.”

“You can’t fix it, Brandon.”

Both men jumped at the quiet words and turned to see Catelyn standing in the doorway from the hall. Her face was pale and her eyes were puffy, but she wasn’t crying now.

“And nothing ever truly goes back,” she continued sadly. “Only forward. If we can’t move forward together, then we’ll have to move forward separately. Because I’m not going back.”

“Cat,” Brandon said, walking forward to take her hands in his. “I only meant that . . .”

“I know what you meant, Brandon,” she said. “And I understand. We’ve had some wonderful times, and sometimes I’d like to close my eyes and be in some of those moments again, too. But that’s the past. I need you to look at me and tell me what you see in the future.”

Her blue eyes looked up into his brothers grey ones intently, and Ned stood as if rooted to the floor, feeling that he shouldn’t be there at all, but unable to force himself to turn away.

“I’d like to see you there,” Brandon said. “You’re my girl, Cat.”

She bit her lip. “I’ve liked being your girl, Brandon. Most of the time. I truly have. But I have to look forward. I’d like to be a wife. A mother. A woman who stands on her own two feet and looks at the man she calls husband knowing that nothing comes between them--not other people, not secrets, not lies.”

“I . . .I mean, you’re moving pretty fast all of a sudden, Cat. You’ve barely let me kiss you in a month and now you’re talking marriage and kids? We talked about you moving in with me after graduation. Let’s start there and see where it takes us, okay?”

She reached up and put her hand on Brandon’s face, and Ned waited for her to kiss his brother and agree to his plan. He tried very hard to hope it proved successful for both of them.

“No,” she said. “You talked about my moving in with you. You never actually asked me what I thought.” She gently brushed the bruised skin around his eye and then stood back from a little ways, pulling her other hand out of his grip. “I realized tonight that you never have. You make plans for us. You make assumptions. And I go along. I’m not doing that anymore.”

“Assumptions . . .” Brandon said, his face darkening. “About that thing with Baelish, Cat. I never meant . . .”

“Don’t, Brandon,” she said. “You assumed I was behaving like you.” She shrugged. “And I had assumed you knew I never would. We were both wrong.”

“I . ..”

“I’m going to take Robert up on his offer to have his driver take me home,” she said. “But I couldn’t go without speaking to you. And I do thank you for rescuing me from Petyr.”

I’d never let anyone hurt you, Cat,” Brandon said vehemently.

She gave him a wry smile, and Ned saw his brother recognize the hypocrisy of his words. “Well, anyone except me, I suppose,” he added.

The two of them looked at each other for an uncomfortable moment, and Ned found himself staring at the floor to avoid looking at them. Finally Brandon spoke again. “So . . .is this it, Cat? Are we over?”

Ned looked up and saw that now tears did appear in those blue eyes. “Yes, Brandon. I’m afraid we are.”

“Well,” Brandon turned around then and looked at Ned, seeming to remember he was in the room for the first time in awhile. “I think I shall go out to the bar and get thoroughly drunk while I make up really good stories about how I got this black eye. Care to join me, Ned?”

Ned shook his head. “I think I’ve had quite enough of this particular party, Brandon. I’m going home.”

“Suit yourself.” He turned back to Catelyn. “I will miss you, Cat. I’m not going to beg. But call me if you change your mind. I still think we’re good together.”

He bent and planted a soft kiss on her lips and walked out of the door.

Neither Ned nor Catelyn moved for several moments after that. Then Catelyn all but collapsed, sitting down on the edge of Robert’s big king bed and putting her face in her hands. Ned went to stand beside her, but wasn’t certain if he should touch her or what he should say. He hovered there by her, feeling awkward and useless.

She looked up at him then. “I just broke up with Brandon, didn’t I?” she said, almost unbelievingly.

“It would seem as if you did,” he answered.

“Oh God,” she whispered.

“Shall I go get him?” Ned asked, wondering if she already regretted her actions.

She shook her head. “No. It needed to end between us. I just wasn’t sure I’d have the courage.”

“You sounded plenty courageous to me, Cat.”

She smiled at him. “Sit with me, Ned,” she said. “Talk to me. I feel . . .at loose ends. I feel that too much has happened in too little time, and I can’t . . .I don’t quite know what to do with myself.”

“And you want me to tell you?” he asked her, smiling a little as he sat down beside her. “I should think I’m the last person you’d ask for advice considering . . . .How long you were you standing there, anyway?”

She looked down a moment, but met his eyes before she replied. “Long enough to hear what you shouted at him. And to hear what he said to you just before that.”

“I’m sorry,” he said to her.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked him softly. “If it was Brandon who was with Ashara, why didn’t you tell me?”

Ned sighed. “What would that have accomplished, Cat? I told you the truth, you know, as to what happened between Ash and me. Bringing Brandon into it . . .you were already hurt. You wanted to try and work things out with him. I didn’t want to interfere with that.”

“So you’d let him keep lying to me? Keep cheating on me? God, Ned, how many have there been? And don’t tell me it was only Barbrey and Ashara because I can’t believe that anymore.”

“No” he said softly. “It wasn’t. And, no, I couldn’t let him lie to you any longer either. That’s why he was angry with me. I told him I couldn’t do that anymore--that he had to be worthy of you. I . . .I’m sorry, Cat. I’m sorry for everything.”

“He loves you, Ned.”

Of all the things, he’d expected she might say, that was not one of them. He looked at her silently and waited to see what she might say next.

“He loves you,” she repeated. “Probably more than he loves anyone. Well, except for maybe Lyanna,” she said with a sad little laugh. “But he slept with your girlfriend.”

“They didn’t actually do any sleeping,” Ned said. “He fucked her on the desk in his office, and I walked in on them.”

“Oh, god, Ned. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do it.”

She smiled at him. “No. I didn’t do anything wrong. Neither did you. But, Ned, for a long time, I worried that I was somehow not enough. That I was failing Brandon.”

“What?” he asked her. The mere idea that this beautiful, wonderful woman could doubt her worth astonished him.

She swallowed and kept her eyes on his. “I’m not a fool. Whatever people may think. I’ve suspected that Brandon cheated for a long time. And I always worried that it meant I wasn’t good enough. That he didn’t love me enough. Because if he did, he wouldn’t do that, right? He wouldn’t betray me like that if I could really earn his love.” She took a deep breath and swallowed again. “But I know how much he loves you. And he betrayed you. Why? Why would he do that?”

“I’ve asked myself the same question,” Ned said softly.

“There’s only one answer, Ned. It has nothing to do with you. It can’t. It’s all to do with Brandon. And I think now that maybe Barbrey Ryswell--and all those girls---had nothing to do with me, either. It’s not my fault. Brandon seems to hurt the people he loves without even thinking about it. I heard the two of you, and I knew . . .if it isn’t anything I’ve done, it isn’t anything I can fix. And I don’t think Brandon is going to fix it, either.”

 _No, he isn’t,_ Ned thought. _He isn’t going to change, and I don’t know that he truly wants to._ “Shall I find Robert and have him get his driver for you?” he asked her. There were other things he wanted to ask her, but he didn’t feel he had the right.

She sighed. “I suppose. I don’t want to stay here.” She bit her lip, and tears suddenly filled her eyes. “My god, Ned!” she said, throwing her head back and leaning back on her arms. “That goddamn picture will likely show up in the paper tomorrow! The one with the mistletoe!”

“I’m sorry, Cat,” he said. “But he has no one to blame but himself. You spoke the truth, you know. None of his actions are your fault.”

“Well, I . . .” she started, and then she stopped suddenly and began to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” he asked her, confused.

She kept laughing, but she sat up straight again, and grabbed his arm. Then she pointed up toward the ceiling and planted a kiss on his bearded cheek.

 

_____________________________________________________________________________________

 

She’d shocked him. She could see it in his grey eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That was probably uncalled for. It’s just . . .”

“Mistletoe,” Ned said, looking up at the ceiling over the bed.

“Mistletoe,” Catelyn repeated looking at the little white berries and green leaves firmly affixed to the ceiling above them. “Only Robert would put the stuff over his bed.”

“He’s put it everywhere, apparently,” Ned said with disgust. “It can’t be very pleasant for you.”

She looked at him, wondering if he’d truly been disgusted by her kissing him. “Well, it hasn’t been up to this point tonight,” she admitted. “But I used to like mistletoe. I always thought it was kind of sweet. Forgive me for being . . .inappropriate. I guess I just wanted to remind myself a kiss can actually be just sweet with nothing sinister about it.”

He looked at her a moment. “All kisses should be sweet for you, Cat.” He spoke the words quietly, but with a certain adamance that caused her to catch her breath. She felt warm under his gaze and couldn’t have taken her eyes from his if her life depended upon it. Slowly, his face came closer to hers, and then their lips were touching.

It was a gentle, tender kind of kiss, and his lips were surprisingly soft on hers. His closely trimmed mustache and beard tickled her skin. He didn’t reach out to hold her. Only their lips met, but Catelyn felt something akin to an electric current run through her entire body. Too soon, he pulled away.

“Forgive me,” he said, looking down at his hands. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why not?” she demanded. “Am I such a bad kisser?”

His eyes flew back up to hers at that, and the expression on his face was almost comical. “No! No . . .Cat . . .Kissing you is . . .” He swallowed hard. “It’s only that I have no right to do it. After everything you’ve been through tonight . . .”

“After everything I’ve been through tonight, I want you to kiss me again.” The words were out of her mouth before she realized she meant to say them, and her cheeks blazed.

“I’m afraid that may be the wine talking.”

She laughed at loud at that. “You mean the half glass I had a million years ago with you?” She looked at him, almost afraid of her own boldness. “Ned, I don’t know what this is, but don’t tell me that you don’t feel it.” She reached for his hand, but he moved it away from her.

“I do know what it is, on my part,” he said very softly. “And that’s why I’ve no right to kiss you. You’ve just ended a relationship of three years--after being embarrassed, manipulated, and assaulted. Your mind can’t possibly be clear right now.”

“Well,” she admitted. “It’s certainly full. I can’t think about any one thing too long because I have so many other things to worry about. Robert said Stannis would stay with Lysa until she was safely home.”

She phrased it as a statement, not a question, but Ned understood her need for reassurance. “He will. Lysa is one thing you needn’t worry about, at least for tonight.”

She sighed and closed her eyes. “I feel like I’m floating, Ned. Not in a good way--like I’m drifting and not in control of anything. Like I was swimming along in one direction and a current just picked me up, and now I don’t know where I’m going.”

“At the moment, I think home is the only place you need to go. I’ll go call Robert’s driver. He can get your coat from the doorman, and I can take you down the back elevator if you’d prefer.”

He started to rise, and she reached out and grabbed his hand, suddenly desperate to keep him there beside her. “Don’t go,” she whispered.

“Cat?” He looked at her closely, grey eyes full of concern.

“I still want you to kiss me again,” she said, shocked by her own admission.

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

“Why not? And what did you mean when you said you know what it is . . .on your part?”

His facial muscles moved only slightly, and yet she could see him struggling with a number of emotions in the silence that followed her question. “I . . .I have cared about you more than I should for a rather long time now,” he said finally. “I’ve tried not to . . .but . . .” He gave an almost imperceptible shrug.

“Oh, Ned. Why didn’t you ever say something?”

“You may recall I was dating someone, Catelyn. And you were my brother’s girlfriend.”

“I’m not your brother’s girlfriend anymore.”

“No. But it’s too soon. I won’t confuse you, Cat. That isn’t fair to you.”

“You’re the only thing in my life that isn’t confusing right now, Ned! I don’t pretend to know what that means or where it will go, but I do know I don’t want to go home without even trying to find out. I don’t know why I never saw it before, but I’ve always been more honest with you than with anyone else, even with myself. I’m not asking you to promise me anything or to be here past this moment, but I honestly want you to kiss me again. I’ve been kissed by two men tonight already without my wanting it. I want very much to be kissed by a man I choose.”

His eyes never left hers as she spoke. After she finished, he raised a hand and caressed her cheek. “Catelyn,” he said softly. “Don’t you understand? I can’t kiss you and walk away without a thought. I can’t kiss you without promising you everything I have. I would never force myself into your life or ask for something you can’t give, but Cat . . .If you want me in any way at all, you must know that I will be here for as long as you want me. Because, God help me, I do want you.”

As his words sank in, Catelyn felt herself tremble slightly, not from fear, but from the sudden understanding that an entirely new future was open to her. “I want you, too,” she whispered, realizing the truth of the words as she spoke them. “And not because I’m upset. And not just for one kiss.”

The joy and hope that lit up his normally solemn face made her heart soar, but she couldn’t help worrying about what this could mean for him. “Ned,” she said. “I am not Brandon’s and he has no say in what I do or who I see. But he will always be your brother. Your being with me could get . . .ugly. Are you sure it’s worth it?”

“My being with you will undoubtedly get . . .complicated, where my brother is concerned. But never ugly. Nothing concerning you could ever be ugly. And you are worth it, Cat. You are worth more than anything I’ve ever known.”

She smiled at him and started to put her arms around his neck, but once more, he pushed himself away. Confused and disappointed, she watched him stand up. Then he climbed to stand on the bed, reaching above them to pry the mistletoe loose with his fingers and then toss it to the floor.

“What are you doing, Ned?”

He jumped back down to sit beside her. “I’m kissing you,” he said. “But I want to make it clear that nothing compels us, Cat. Not even a plant with a silly tradition. This is a choice. I’ll have it be nothing else for either of us.”

Tears filled her eyes as she nodded. “I’ve made my choice.”

He took her in his arms then and kissed her once more. There was no hesitation this time, no holding back by either of them. In Ned Stark’s arms, she felt strength that would shelter her without confining her. On his lips, she tasted a future sweeter than she would have thought possible. This kiss, she realized, was a promise--a wordless promise--but one stronger and truer than any she’d ever received from anyone.

Heart pounding, Catelyn Tully pulled him more tightly to her, and with her own lips and all her heart, she returned that wordless promise, never doubting for a second that both of them would keep it.


End file.
